The west wind withered the green trees last night. Climb a tall building alone and look out to the end of the world. ——Yan Shu, "Butterflies in Love with Flowers, Chrysanthemums on the Threshold, Sorrowful Smoky Orchids Weeping Dew"
Thousands of miles of clouds, thousands of mountains covered with dusk snow, who are the shadows going to? ——Yuan Haowen's "Moyu'er·Yanqiu Ci/Maipitang"
The trees in foreign lands have fallen leaves, and people are alone at night under the cold lamp. ——Ma Dai's "Autumn Residence in Bashang"
How affectionate is an inch of tenderness? Thin quilt, solitary pillow, dreaming back to people in silence, clear dawn Xiaoxiao rain. ——Huihong "The Sapphire Case·Silk Locust Smoke and Willow Changting Road"
A pot of wine among the flowers, drinking alone without any blind date. ——Li Bai's "One of Four Poems for Drinking Alone under the Moon"
Who thinks that the west wind is cooling alone, the rustling yellow leaves are closing the windows, and meditating on the past is setting the sun. ——Nalan Xingde's "Huanxisha·Who misses the west wind and is alone in the cold"
The lonely lamp does not understand, and I am so distraught that I roll up the curtains and look at the moonlit sky and sigh. ——Li Bai's "Sauvignon Blanc·Part 1"
All the birds are flying high, and the lonely cloud is alone.
——Li Bai "Sitting Alone on Jingting Mountain"